


Payback

by Morgana



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-08
Updated: 2013-11-08
Packaged: 2017-12-31 20:24:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1036009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgana/pseuds/Morgana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean crossed a line yesterday. Now Sam needs to show him just why that was a bad idea</p>
            </blockquote>





	Payback

Dean probably shouldn’t have been surprised to wake up tied to the bed. He’d known Sam was watching yesterday when that waitress had slipped him her phone number - it was the reason he hadn’t just thrown it away, because he loved it when his brother got possessive. But Sam hadn’t said a word about it when he’d gotten back in the car and all but waved the napkin in his face. He hadn’t said anything when Dean brought it up on the drive into Moses Lake or after they’d checked into the motel and gotten ready for bed. Dean had begun to think he was going to ignore it, but he really should’ve known better.  
  
Neither of them had ever been very good at letting things go.  
  
So, yeah, he really wasn’t that shocked to wake up like this. But he  _was_  surprised to find Sam sitting in a chair staring at him from across the room instead of looming over him like he usually did. “Hey, Sammy? You wanna see about untying me, here?”  
  
“Why, so you can go slutting after that waitress?”  
  
Dean sighed and shifted a little. When Sam got pissy like that, it was rarely a good sign. “I wasn’t gonna call her, you know that. I was just -”  
  
“Trying to make me jealous.” There was nothing he could say to that, so he didn’t bother to try to offer an excuse. “Because you want me to fuck you hard, but you’re not getting what you want today.”  
  
Shit, was he really that transparent? Or had Sam just gotten better at seeing through him? “I’m not?”  
  
Sam shook his head. “I’d planned on fucking you through the mattress, but then I got to thinking about it, and that’s just what you’re after.”  
  
Okay, there really wasn’t any way to deny that. Not that he’d really try, especially when Sam was standing up and reaching down to open his jeans. “So why am I tied up if I’m not gonna get fucked, then?”  
  
Sam’s smile sent a literal shiver down his spine. “Because I wanted to make sure you stayed out of the way.”  
  
Dean licked his lips, watching his brother squeeze himself through his jeans. He could see him hardening, see the denim bulge growing and damn, that looked good. “I can do a lot more than just stay outta the way, you know.”  
  
“Yeah, I know.” Sam unzipped his jeans and holy crap, he wasn’t wearing anything under there. Dean’s mouth started watering when he caught a glimpse of dark hair right before Sam reached in and pulled his cock out. And they’d been fucking off and on since Sam was fifteen, but just like always, the sight went straight to Dean’s dick.  
  
He shifted his hips, trying to draw Sam’s attention to his hardening dick, but Sam stayed right where he was and wrapped one of those big, capable hands around himself. “Something you want, Dean?” He stroked himself, one slow stroke from base to tip.   
  
Dean could see a droplet of precome form at the tip and he really wanted to lick it off, but he was half a room away. “Damn right there is. C’mon over here, Sammy.”  
  
Sam just stroked himself again, and this time he moaned softly. “God, that feels good. I bet you wish you were doing this for me, don’t you? Bet you wish I’d go over there and fuck your mouth, maybe shoot all over your face. You always look so good wearing my come...”  
  
A needy little whine slipped out. “Fuck, man, don’t talk that way if you’re not gonna follow through on it.” He loved it when Sam talked dirty, always had, and Sam knew it.  
  
But he didn’t move, just kept jerking off with those long, slow strokes, like he had all the time in the world and nothing better to do with it than work himself up. “You know you earned this, so shut up and take it.” Another moan and Dean was starting to really ache, here. “You want to flirt like that, you want to let them think you’re still whoring around, then you can just sit there and take a look at what you’ll be giving up.”  
  
Wait, what? Since when had a little flirting meant giving up Sam? Dean tried to get up, but the cuffs around his wrist held tight, rattling against the bed. “Sammy, I wasn’t serious about it, you know that!”  
  
“You let her think you were serious. You didn’t mind leading her on. You didn’t mind me watching while you did it, so now you get to watch and hope that when I let you go, I’m willing to fuck you again, just like I had to hope you weren’t actually going to hook up with that girl.” And Jesus, how the hell was he managing to sound so reasonable while he jerked off?!?  
  
“C’mon, man, I don’t want her. You know you’re the only one I want, Sammy.” He had to know that - he’d been the center of Dean’s world since he was four, and he couldn’t imagine being with anybody else. But what if Sam was just in it for the sex? What if he was waiting for Dean to hook up so he could go find some pretty little girl and -  
  
Dean yanked harder on the chains, trying to ignore the fear that was coiling low in his gut. “Just you,” he babbled, “Sammy, please, let me go. Fuck, please!”  
  
“Just me?” Sam panted, starting to work himself faster now. And Jesus, this was equal parts hot and painful, watching Sam get himself off without being able to touch or help. “You sure about that, Dean? You don’t want to keep flirting and getting phone numbers?”  
  
“No!” Dean looked from Sam’s straining cock to the burning intensity in his eyes. “Fuck, Sammy, please. I’m yours, always have been, won’t even fucking look at anyone else!” He pulled against the cuffs again, suddenly desperate for something, anything, some kind of proof that Sam wasn’t going to just finish up and leave him here alone. “Please, Sammy, need it, please, please, pleasepleaseplease...”  
  
And then Sam was right there, unlocking him and pulling him into his lap, kissing him and trying to look at his wrists. But Dean didn’t care, not when he finally had his hands on Sam, when he was pressed up close against him. “Just you,” he promised, burying his face in Sam’s neck as he started rocking against him. “God, Sammy, it’s always been you, can’t even fucking think about anyone else.”  
  
“Shhh, it’s okay,” Sam soothed, hands running up and down Dean’s back, pressing him closer. “It’s okay, Dean. I know you just want me. I know, just had to hear it.” And then he was laying him out and following him down, kissing him and moving against him, and everything else faded away under the pleasure, just like it always did when Sam was touching him. Dean moaned and kissed him back, wrapping his arms around his neck and his legs around his hips, holding on to Sam for all he was worth.  
  
It was what he knew how to do, the only thing he'd ever learned that really meant anything, and he wasn't about to give it up, not for phone numbers or waitresses or casual fucks or the world itself. He was Sam's, always had been, and he was going to make damn sure that Sam knew it from here on in.


End file.
